Not like mother's kisses
by InnocentSmile97
Summary: "A girl could cook for us." He whispered. "So could a boy." "A girl could wash us." "So could a boy." "A girl could make our shelters home." "So could a boy." "A girl could love us." "So could a boy." "A girl could kiss us." "So could -" Roger stopped short. - I felt like there wasn't enough Jack/Roger fluff :3


**Not like mother's kisses**

A spear whistled past Roger's ear and let out a resounding twang as it pierced a tree trunk. He whipped round and his gazed immediately fell on Jack lying in a crumpled heap on the leafy ground.

"Chief?"

Jack groaned but at the recollection of being chief, he quickly scrambled to his feet.

"My stupid shoe just broke! And all because of that stupid sticky-outy vine! Stupid shoe!" he half shouted.

"You don't need it." said Roger, completely unfazed by Jack's sudden outburst. He had been hunting enough with Jack by now to be used to his vents of frustration which he often flew into as they failed to kill. Instead Roger calmly wrenched the sharpened stick from where Jack had thrown it as he'd tripped. "Besides, most of the littleuns run around bare foot."

"But I'm not a littleun!" protested Jack, "I'm chief!"

"We can fix it." replied Roger. Jack crouched down and ran his fingers over the torn seams.

"No. We can't." He said, so resolutely that Roger remained silent. Then he added, more of an afterthought to himself than to Roger; "But my mother could. If only she were here. In fact _any_ girl could…"

Roger frowned. "So could a boy." He was desperate to cling on to any form of superiority.

Jack lifted his gaze to look into Roger's cold, unblinking eyes. As Roger stared back down at the boy crouching amongst the ferns, flowers and fruit, he was startled to find such a deceivingly innocent face staring back; his large and vulnerable eyes peered up through a shock of tangled red hair. All of a sudden Roger was not looking up to his beloved confident chief but down on a confused and lost 12 year old boy.

"A girl could cook for us." He whispered.

"So could a boy."

"A girl could wash us."

"So could a boy."

"A girl could make our shelters home."

"So could a boy."

"A girl could love us."

"So could a boy."

"A girl could kiss us."

"So could -" Roger stopped short. Images swarmed into both boys' minds. Kisses… mother… mother and father… Uncle's wedding… All symbolised the same irresistibly desirable things: affection, commitment, reliability. They hovered temptingly just outside of their grasp on this lonesome island. Unless…

Jack slowly rose, closing the distance between the two boys. The look in Roger's eyes had softened slightly at pleasant memories and he even leaned tentatively closer to Jack. Jack could hardly believe what they were considering. Not once had he kissed anyone outside of his family. Especially not another boy.

They could feel each other's breath on their faces and –

"Pig!" shouted Roger, springing backwards. He threw Jack's spear so that Jack – who's reflexes were quick – caught it and could then spin round on the balls of his feet to catch a glimpse of pink.

"Come on!" He commanded and the two boys sprang into action, a thirst for blood overriding everything.

Even so, Jack couldn't help feel slightly disappointed.

~#~

There was no official rule about bedtime on Jack's side of the island. Painted, sunburnt boys danced round the fire until the wind blew it to embers and the darkness claimed everything. As such was the current state; most had retreated to the cool safety of the trees and now lay in clusters awaiting sleep. That is unless the chorus of humming insects kept them up all night.

The chief surveyed his tribe and stifled a yawn. Whether he liked it or not, it was time he too took a rest. He settled on a pile of leaves and ferns he'd ordered to be placed by a huge bolder as a make-shift bed. He was just about to close his eyes when he heard it.

Shuffling. All of a sudden his body tensed and all hunter instincts were alert. Beast?

A black mound came shuffling up to him. No, wait – crawling. It was only one of the boys. Jack relaxed and let out a breath he hadn't even realised he'd been holding.

The boy – a biggun – lay down opposite Jack. On the dirt though, not the chief's leaves. It was only when the boy spoke that Jack could be sure who it was.

"My mother always used to give me a kiss goodnight."

Jack sat up slowly. Roger followed, somewhat cautiously. The moon only cast a slither of silvery light which meant Roger could scarcely make out the features on Jack's face, let alone tell what his reaction might be. He could feel his stomach tying itself into knots. Had he just made a huge mistake? Let his guard down too easily? But before he could work himself into a panic, he sensed Jack leaning towards him. Instinctively, he did the same.

Although both boys had been aiming for cheeks – just as mothers do – the night deceived them and their lips collided. They sprang back as though an electric spark had shot between them. Moonlight reflected off their wide eyes.

Jack felt suddenly conscious of the presence of other boys. They were not hidden away in the jungle anymore so they had reputations to uphold in front of all the others. Yet somehow, undercover of the darkness, Jack convinced himself they were safe.

So he leaned forwards again. This time he controlled the kiss, making it soft and light yet full of the love and longing he'd buried so deep he'd almost forgotten. And he could feel Roger returning it all.

It was short and sweet and as soon as they parted Jack murmured:

"Goodnight Roger."

"Goodnight Jack."

As they settled back down for bed, an unspoken agreement passed between them: firstly, that this will never be spoken of to anyone. And secondly, that, when disguised by the night, goodnight kisses were permitted.

~#~

Well what do you think? This is my first LotF fic so please let me know!


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